


Still Have Me

by ForForever19



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'The first Christmas Rachel Berry volunteers at the homeless shelter, she's seven years old.'
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 19
Kudos: 270





	Still Have Me

**Disclaimer** : I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN** : Happy New Year, good people! I hope you're having a safe, enjoyable, socially-distanced night wherever and whenever you are in the world. After my 2019, I had great expectations for 2020, but I've since shifted them to 2021, so here's _hoping_. Please take care 💛

* * *

**Still Have Me**

* * *

The first Christmas Rachel Berry volunteers at the homeless shelter, she's seven years old.

She's with her fathers at the time, happily doing little tasks like handing out plastic cutlery and engaging in conversation with all the flavourful people the shelter manages to attract for the holiday.

She loves people, whoever they are, and they seem to enjoy her in return, laughing at her antics, and even inviting her to sing when she tells them it's her life's dream to perform on Broadway.

She enjoys it so much that she vows to go back every year, and she hasn't missed one since.

Now, having just turned sixteen years old, she's on her own, her fathers at an office Christmas party, and she has zero regrets beyond _why is it so cold_? She's all bundled up to combat it, though, and she's participating in one of her favourite things to do, so she's trying not to complain. What does she have to complain about, anyway, when she has a roof over her head, food on the table, and a pair of parents who love her perhaps just a little too much?

So, no, she might be flying solo tonight and freezing cold, but she's here and she wants to help. Most of the staff know her, but there are a few new people who Lynn introduces her to with ease. Lynn's probably the senior-most member present, and she's always looked out for her.

Lynn puts her right to work, and Rachel is eager to get busy. They set up tables for sitting and others for serving food. She lays out piles of serving trays, plates and cutlery, and grins when Terry asks her to make sure he gets one of the orange plates.

There's background music playing, people chatting, and delightful smells wafting from the kitchen. She can hear the buzz and clanking metal from inside there whenever someone opens the double doors, but she's mainly front-of-house.

Even Lynn knows Rachel's skills are not found in a kitchen setting.

Plus, it would be a waste of her smile to put her behind the scenes. She's good with people, always managing to lift a person's mood, and everyone who receives food from her once service begins leaves feeling just that bit better. Her Daddy claims it's her super power.

She likes to think she has a few.

"Rachel?" Maggie calls out during service, and her head snaps to the left. Later, she'll recognise this moment as the one where her life changes. Maggie says a handful of words, and, just like that, everything is different. "Won't you be a darling and go into the kitchen to fetch the greens from Quinn? She's the blonde in the 'Kiss the Chef' apron."

Rachel smiles through her nod, and then disappears into the kitchen, her eyes already searching for this elusive blonde she hasn't yet been introduced to. There are a few women bustling around, but none of them is blonde.

In fact, the only blonde person in the kitchen is a girl about Rachel's age, who's in the middle of stirring a pot of... something... green.

Rachel approaches her slowly, suddenly feeling severely out of place. The girl is... breathtaking in ways Rachel can't describe, and the sight of her in her apron makes Rachel feel... odd. Warm. _Caught_.

Before Rachel can fully unpack all her feelings in this moment, the girl glances up and notices her just loitering there, offering a small smile.

"Hey," she says.

Rachel gulps, and then returns her smile. "Hi," she says. "Are you Quinn?"

The girl nods. "Yip."

"Maggie sent me in to get the greens," she says.

Quinn looks stumped for a moment, and then she smiles a little wider. "Sure, there should be a tray already in the warmer behind there," she says. "Sorry, I almost forgot about that tray, because these aren't ready yet."

Rachel nods a little dumbly, because this girl is unfairly gorgeous. Her hazel eyes and bright and her smile shouldn't be real.

Quinn's smile fades a little, giving way to confusion. "Uh, aren't you going to…" she asks, gesturing behind Rachel.

Rachel seems to snap out of it. "Oh, right, okay, yip." And then she spins around, a little too fast, and she almost bumps right into the metal table. She just manages to dodge it, her one foot catching on the other, and then flushes at the soft giggle she hears behind her. She definitely doesn't look behind her, because it's already mortifying enough.

She's still flustered when she emerges from the kitchen with the tray of greens, and Maggie gives her a knowing look, smirk on her face. She can barely be mad about it, because Rachel is visibly _bothered_.

"Yip," Maggie says, removing the foil covering on the metal dish; "Quinn'll do that to you."

Rachel puffs out a breath. "Who _is_ she?" she asks, but it's almost rhetorical.

Maggie doesn't answer, anyway, and the two of them get back to serving food before there's a riot.

Rachel tries not to think too much about Quinn, but she can't help it when her mind drifts in the girl's direction. She wants to lay eyes on her again; just to make sure she's actually real. She wants to talk to her; learn more about her; find out what she's doing here and why Rachel's never seen her before.

Instead, she dishes mashed potatoes and collard greens with a happy smile on her face and a cute anecdote up her sleeve. The night moves quickly, an endless line of people filing past, most coming in for a hot meal, even if they aren't staying at the shelter.

Rachel loves the idea that all are welcome, and she gives so much of herself to make the night as memorable as she can. Despite that, though, she can't help but keep one eye on the kitchen doors, half-expecting Quinn to show herself.

She doesn't.

They feed people until all the food is finished, and then they clean up. Rachel is in charge of clearing and wiping down all the tables, while two other volunteers, Nathaniel and Claire, carry all the dishes into the kitchen for washing.

It's while she's wiping a table near the piano that one of the shelter's residents, Jean, manages to rope her into performing her first song of the evening. She glances at Lynn for permission, which the woman gives with a single nod, and then Rachel spends the next fifteen minutes treating the few patrons that remain to some Christmas songs. She gets warm cheers in response, and she's always thankful for an engaged audience.

When she's done, the mess hall is practically spotless, and she feels a little guilty for shirking on her responsibilities. Lynn just waves her off and tells her she's free to mingle now.

"It's either that or you can keep singing for us," Lynn says.

Rachel actually opts for the former, which would surprise her if she weren't acutely aware of exactly why. There is one specific person she wants to talk to, and she should probably drink some water after using her voice all night. Hydration is important.

With her destination in mind, Rachel walks into the kitchen and is pleasantly surprised to find Quinn sitting on a high metal table, legs dangling. Her apron is loose around her neck and she has a plate of food sitting at her left side while she fiddles with her phone in her hand. Rachel gets barely a moment to take her in before her head is lifting and her smile grows at the sight of Rachel.

"Hey," Quinn says. "Need more food?" she asks, though she must already know they've already cleaned everything up.

Still, Rachel shakes her head as she steps closer. "I think they're pretty much done out there," she says.

"Oh, good, because there's no food left, anyway," Quinn says, shrugging slightly. "Though, I managed to save some ham, if you're interested."

Rachel resists the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. "I'm Jewish."

Quinn glances at her, and then laughs. "Cool," she says. "More for me."

Rachel stands awkwardly, trying to figure out what next to say. It's obvious she wants to make conversation with this girl - for any number of reasons - but she doesn't know how to go about it. "Why are you hiding in here?" she eventually asks, which maybe isn't the best way to go about it but she's struggling as it is. "I mean, I didn't see you come out of here at all."

Quinn shrugs. "Too many people out there," she says. "Sometimes, it's as if people can take one look at me and just know my story."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "Well, I for one am left in the dark."

"Because I'm in here, you see?"

"I see." Rachel smiles. "Do I get to know your story?"

"It's not that exciting," Quinn deflects, and then shifts a little. "Do I get to know at least your name?" she asks, turning the questions back on Rachel.

"It's Rachel," she answers. "Rachel Berry."

Quinn mouths her name to herself, and Rachel watches her lips move. "So, why are _you_ in here, Rachel Berry?" she eventually asks.

Rachel isn't entirely sure how to answer that, so she goes with the truth. "I was looking for you, actually."

Quinn's brow creases adorably in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, I mean, you're kind of the only person who's around my age here," she says, which is true, but not the main reason. Rachel can't exactly tell her just how fascinated she is by her, can she? They've just met. "I thought, you know, I would have more in common with you than anyone else."

"I doubt that," Quinn says, but there's no malice in her voice. It's as if she's stating a fact, and it catches Rachel off guard. "It's quite late," Quinn adds. "Aren't you going to head home?"

Rachel frowns slightly, wondering if Quinn is trying to get rid of her. "Um. I'm actually designated driver for my parents." She shakes her head, chuckling softly. "I'm supposed to fetch them whenever they decide to call, so here's hoping they're currently not making fools of themselves at their Christmas party."

Quinn shifts her weight slightly, not for the first time, and Rachel wonders if it's a nervous tic of hers. "That's - that's actually quite cool," she admits. "That they trust you to do that."

Rachel nods, eager. "I just got my license, as well, so I'm a little excited about it."

"I still have a few weeks to go," Quinn says, and her gaze drifts away, her expression falling slack. "Though, I doubt I'd get it then, anyway."

"Why not?"

Quinn meets her gaze. "Kind of need a home address for something like that, you know?"

"Why wouldn't you - " Rachel starts to ask, and then stops herself, because -

_Oh_.

Quinn tilts her head, smiling slightly. "Told you we didn't have much in common."

"You live here?"

Quinn shrugs. "As much as a person can live at a homeless shelter," she says. "I knew Lynn from church. They took me in while I'm still figuring things out."

Rachel has so many questions, all of them sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"It's only for a little while, anyway," Quinn adds a moment later. "My emancipation is still being finalised."

Rachel blinks. "That - that must be terrifying."

Quinn regards her for a moment, before her spine straightens and she asks a disarming question. "Are you homophobic, Rachel?"

The question is predictably unexpected, and she sputters a little. "Uh, no," she says. "Not even a little bit."

"Good," Quinn says. "Homophobes suck."

"They do."

"My parents suck," Quinn says, which basically means they're homophobic, and it doesn't take Rachel all that long to figure out what must have happened.

Rachel audibly swallows. "Did they kick you out?"

Quinn nods, and then looks away. "People here can tell your story," she says, alluding to it once more. "Or, they can tell _mine_. Emma Lee took one look at me and told me she wouldn't have let me go for nothing, and I just - I don't think I could handle hearing any more of that tonight."

Rachel takes a step closer to her, which prompts Quinn to look back at her. "What _is_ your story?"

"It's not that interesting," she deflects again, and Rachel realises she's probably not going to get anything more on that topic out of her. Still, Quinn must know Rachel is very interested in her. It's blatantly obvious at this point.

Rachel is about to take another step closer when her phone starts buzzing in her pocket. It's her Dad, and she answers to the sound of loud music and her Dad saying they're ready whenever she is.

She winces when she says, "Okay, I'm leaving now," and hangs up.

Quinn says, "Duty calls, huh?"

It's strange, this sudden feeling that she doesn't want to leave. Doesn't want to leave _Quinn_. She has half a mind to ask Quinn if she'd like to go for a drive with her, but she stops herself before she makes even more of a fool of herself. "They're waiting, yeah."

"Then you should get going."

She doesn't move.

"Rachel," Quinn breathes. "I swear I'm not that interesting."

"Can't I be the judge of that?"

"I'm nobody," Quinn says, heaving a sigh. "I have nothing and no one. What are you still doing here?"

Rachel can't explain what exactly is happening, because it feels as if they're having several different conversations at once. "I'll come back tomorrow," she finally says, a declaration of sorts.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know," she says; "but I want to."

"I didn't tell you I live here so you can stalk me," Quinn says, but she's wearing a small smile.

"It's not stalking if you know about it, is it?" Rachel asks. "And, I'm pretty sure I'd just be visiting you."

"You don't have to do that," she says again.

"I know," Rachel returns. "I'll see you tomorrow." She offers Quinn one last smile, and then starts to turn and leave.

Only.

She turns back.

"Hey, Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Not that it means anything, I'm sure, but I wouldn't have let you go for anything, either." And then she walks out of the kitchen without another word.

* * *

Rachel doesn't tell her parents where she's going the next morning. They're still nursing hangovers, which is actually quite hilarious, so she's able to escape the house without the Spanish Inquisition.

It doesn't stop her from questioning her own actions and motives. She doesn't want to force Quinn to hang out with her, but she also knows it's the only way she'll get to know her. Which she desperately wants to do.

There's really no other option at this point, which is as startling as it is frightening. Rachel has never had a burning desire to know someone this way. It feels foreign and uncontrollable, and now she's driving across town to a homeless shelter because her curiosity has grabbed hold of her and told her, 'you have to know this girl.'

Lynn isn't all that surprised to see her when she buzzes her in, and Maggie actually laughs when she lays eyes on her.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" Maggie teases, but Rachel ignores her in favour of holding onto her sudden nerves. What on Earth is she doing here?

"Quinn's in the library," Lynn informs her. "Just go on through."

Rachel hesitates.

Maggie lifts her head, "If it makes you feel better to know, she hasn't been able to sit still all morning." Her smile softens. "She was convinced you wouldn't show."

"Well, I did," Rachel says.

"More than anyone else ever did," Maggie comments, and that's the end of that.

Rachel takes a deep breath, and then walks in the direction of the library. She can hear voices coming from inside the room the closer she gets, and she forces her nerves to calm before she knocks on the open door and appears in the doorway to find Quinn sitting at a wooden table beside an older man.

Both of them look up at her, and Rachel forces herself to hold her ground. She waves just once, smiling shakily, and the world seems to stop and restart within a single breath.

"You came back," Quinn says in something like disbelief, and Rachel feels herself flush at the way Quinn is looking at her. Like she's not even real.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward. "I - uh, I told you I would," she says.

"Words mean very little to me," she says, implying actions are what matter. Quinn turns to the man with her. "Hey, Steve, think we can pick this up later?" she asks. "Just finish up with the rest of this chapter for tomorrow, and ask Juanita to help with any words you don't understand, all right?"

Steve nods at her, glancing between the two girls. Then he smiles, too sly to mean anything good. He manages to say, "Enjoy your da - " before Quinn elbows him in the ribs. He laughs heartily, and then gathers his papers and books before leaving Quinn alone with Rachel.

"Sorry about that," Quinn says, blush on her cheeks.

"You're teaching him how to read?"

Quinn nods once, but doesn't elaborate.

Rachel didn't think she could like this stranger of a girl any more, but here she is. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Quinn blinks. "You're asking me to go somewhere with you?" she returns. "You do realise we met just last night, right?"

"Do you like tacos?" Rachel asks, ignoring Quinn's reasoning. "You seem like the type to like tacos."

"I don't even want to know where that stereotype comes from," she says. "What about me gives you the impression I like tacos?"

"You're spicy."

"You are very weird."

"Grab your coat," Rachel says. "I'm starving."

Quinn regards her critically, and Rachel's convinced she's going to argue again, but she rather gets to her feet, shakes her head in amusement, and then disappears from the room. She's back two minutes later, coat hanging over her forearm and an adorable red beanie over her blonde hair.

"This isn't a date," Quinn says.

Rachel's breath catches, because she didn't expect it to be, but the word still makes her heart race. Could that have even been a possibility? "Okay."

"Just so we're clear," Quinn says. "I am in no place to be dating anybody."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Rachel smiles at her. "Shall we?"

* * *

For something that isn't a date, it sure seems like one.

Rachel can't help it that she wants to impress Quinn; to get her to relax and smile that smile that reveals that tiny dimple she may or may not have.

Rachel drives carefully, sneaking glances at Quinn the entire way to the food truck that she deems is the best in town. Noah first introduced them to her a few months ago, and she just loves the vibe. They play music from these horrible, tinny speakers, and Rachel adores the whole atmosphere.

"I haven't been out and about for a while," Quinn whispers over the music that's playing in the car. "It's like nothing and everything has changed."

Just then, a random sedan cuts them off, and Rachel has to press the brakes sharply, swearing under her breath.

Quinn chuckles. "Lima drivers still drive for shit," she comments.

Rachel breathes out. She doesn't really know what to say that won't sound like she's prying. She just wants to know Quinn, and that means knowing about her past. When she does open her mouth, what she says is, "Please tell me you actually like tacos."

Quinn looks at her, lips still in a small smile. "Is it a complete dealbreaker if I tell you I've never had one?"

Rachel's mouth drops open. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Quinn confirms. "Did I mention my parents are also racist bigots?"

"They wouldn't even let you eat foreign food?"

Quinn shrugs. "They play their roles very well."

Rachel keeps her eyes on the road when she says, "Does this mean I'll be your first?" with all the innocence the question isn't meant to convey.

Quinn sucks in a breath. "I suppose it does."

"There are so many cuisines you have to try, then," Rachel says, moving them swiftly along, having expended all her bravery with her previous question. "I wonder how much we can fit into the day. What are you doing tomorrow? I have plans to make."

Quinn laughs, this soft and disbelieving sound. " _Rachel_."

Rachel looks over at her, seeing the light in her eyes, and feels a lot of her good sense escape her. It's the only reason she says, "I like the way you say my name."

Quinn's smile softens rather than fades, and she truly is beautiful. "Okay." A pause. "Rachel."

Heat blooms on Rachel's cheeks, and she puffs out a breath when they finally get to their destination. She's just able to find them parking, squeezing into a small spot at a turn in the road.

Quinn compliments her parallel parking skills, and then gets out of the car. Rachel takes a few deep breaths, and then follows after her, making sure she has her purse, keys and phone.

"Shall we?"

"Lead the way," Quinn says, and then falls into step beside Rachel when she starts walking. "You're a good driver," Quinn says after a moment.

"Oh, um, thank you," Rachel says, caught off guard by the compliment. "I've actually been driving since I was nine."

"What?"

Rachel nods. "When we visit my grandparents' farm, my grandfather always takes me driving in his old pickup."

"You can drive stick?"

Rachel nods again, laughing at the look on Quinn's face. "Impressed?"

"Very," Quinn admits, and they both blush at the verbal confirmation. "But, I have to ask, you couldn't have been that tall when you were nine, right? Could you even see over the wheel?"

Rachel's smile grows. "I would sit in his lap until I could reach the pedals, and then I just used pillows."

"Cute," Quinn says. "Do you have pictures?"

"My grandmother must," she says. "That woman loves to take pictures of everything. My cousin showed her how to work the camera on her phone, so now she takes photos of practically everything in front of her. I am now intimately familiar with the sight of her cat's little paws."

"You'll have to show me."

"I will," Rachel promises. "Tomorrow." And then she proceeds to order them a small selection of tacos to share. It's a specific sharing platter that the head chef, Sergio, swears by, and Rachel has had it once with Noah a few months ago. It's probably the best way to introduce Quinn to the cuisine.

They find a wooden table to share with another pair of girls, and Rachel is internally giddy at being able to sit next to Quinn instead of opposite her. Quinn even huddles in unexpectedly close because of the cold, and Rachel's little heart soars.

She has to remind herself it's not a date something like fifteen times.

More so when Quinn pulls the most adorable faces at each new combination of taco she tries. She also makes these cute little sounds as flavours land on her tongue, and Rachel's convinced she could lose herself in this girl.

Quinn decides her favourite is the fish taco. "And that sriracha mayo," she adds, eyes bright. "It's like heaven. Why have I never had that before?"

"Stick with me," Rachel says; "I'll show you the world."

Quinn tilts her head a little, and there's something so deeply pure about the way she's looking at Rachel. "In cuisines?"

"For now."

Quinn shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Quinn doesn't elaborate; just bites into a shrimp taco and loses her mind. It's the best thing Rachel has ever seen, and she wants nothing more than to hold onto this moment forever.

But, alas, it _is_ actually cold, and the excitement of the tacos eventually gives way to trembling fingers and chattering teeth. Quinn's lips even turn a little blue, and Rachel suggests getting some hot chocolate before they head back to the shelter.

Quinn insists on paying for their drinks, quietly saying, "I'm not broke or anything. I'm just not old enough or free enough to use it yet."

Rachel doesn't argue, rather choosing to step that bit closer to Quinn and whispering her order. The smile she gets in return is well worth it, and it's another moment of which she wishes she could take a snapshot.

"Quinn?" she says, soft enough that Quinn has to lean in to hear her. "Thank you."

Quinn looks perplexed. "It's just hot chocolate, Rachel."

Rachel doesn't explain further, but she thinks Quinn must know she means it for more than just a hot beverage. It's for giving her a chance.

It's for so much.

Even if it's not a date.

They take a walk around the little area, talking about the other food trucks parked in the small lot. Quinn expresses interest in trying a few of the others, and Rachel makes note of them for another time. If she plays her cards right, perhaps she'll be able to bring Quinn here again.

When they've finished their drinks, the last thing Rachel wants is to take Quinn back, but it's also freezing and she doesn't actually expect to spend the entire day with Quinn. As much as she wants to.

Still, it's Quinn who says, "Think we can stop by the library on our way back?"

Rachel nods immediately, choosing to believe Quinn just wants to spend more time with her rather than just use her for a free ride.

Quinn merely proves it when the two of them spend the next three hours among the stacks. Rachel learns so much about her in those three hours: what her favourite books are, what she's generally interested in, and just how comfortable she is around books.

Quinn collects a pile of maybe seven books, grabs hold of Rachel's sleeve and leads her towards a couch in a corner, and then they spend the next ninety minutes just reading.

If this were a date, Rachel's convinced it would be the perfect one.

Quinn even leans into her personal space a few times, smile on her lips, as she explains what's happening in whatever book she's reading. It's perfect. She's perfect, and Rachel gets little of her own reading done, her attention more often than not on Quinn.

Quinn, who yawns three times in quick succession, and then declares herself _done_. For now. She doesn't immediately suggest they leave as she closes her book. Instead, she shifts close to Rachel, rests her head on Rachel's shoulder and quietly says, "Please read to me."

So Rachel does. It's _Alice In Wonderland_ , which Quinn claims is one of her favourite books, but Rachel has never actually read the whole story. She gets into it, her voice carrying the story through the many adventures, but she stops rather abruptly when she hears Quinn's breathing even out.

One little peek and, yes, Quinn is asleep.

Rachel barely know what to do with herself. Her heart beats steadily in her chest, a certain warmth spreading through her chest at what this could all mean. It means so much in this moment.

To her.

She can only hope it means the same to Quinn.

* * *

They've spent nearly five hours together by the time Rachel pulls up in front of the shelter, shifting the car into Park and not moving. She can't stop thinking about the moment Quinn awoke, slow and perfect, eyes blinking at her and mouth curling into a small smile.

Rachel wanted to kiss her.

She still wants to, but she knows she won't. It's not a date, and she won't push Quinn to do anything she definitely doesn't want to.

"Why did you do all of this?" Quinn asks as they stay seated in Rachel's car. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Rachel tells her. "Everything." She bravely reaches for Quinn's closer hand, linking their fingers. "Anything you're willing to share with me."

"I'm fifteen and homeless," Quinn says. "I'm also terrible company on most days. I don't - I wouldn't even know how to do this."

"I reckon you're already doing all right."

"But this wasn't a date."

"So you keep saying," Rachel says. "Why then do you keep looking at my mouth?"

Quinn looks caught, and Rachel worries she's pushed too far until Quinn tugs on her hand, bringing her closer until they're breathing the same air. "I literally have no idea what I'm doing," she whispers.

"We can figure it out together," Rachel assures her. "I'm not any more experienced at this than you."

"Isn't that just a recipe for disaster?"

"We'll be a taco," Rachel suddenly says.

"What?"

"A taco," Rachel says. "All these different ingredients that you aren't sure would actually go together, but somehow they work. We'll be a taco."

"A taco."

"A spicy one."

Quinn shakes her head, visibly amused. "You truly are very weird."

"With an amazing cabbage slaw," Rachel adds, and Quinn giggles. "Salsa is a must, as well. And the tortillas must be toasted, otherwise it's a no deal."

Quinn sighs. "Fine," she says. "We'll be a taco."

Rachel beams at her, and then risks pressing the lightest of kisses to Quinn's cheek. It leaves them both blushing, and Quinn mumbles out a farewell.

Only, Rachel doesn't release her hand. She has one more thing to say. "I was mostly kidding earlier, but what _are_ you doing tomorrow?"

Quinn's eyes dart over her face, searching for something. "Just reading with Steve in the morning," she says. "I'm supposed to be having dinner with my sister, but I doubt that's happening."

That piques Rachel's curiosity, and it must show on her face because Quinn squeezes her hand.

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow," Quinn promises, and Rachel feels simultaneously secure and unsettled.

"I'll come by a little later, so you have time to finish up with Steve, okay?"

Quinn nods, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. "I - yeah, thank you for today."

"Of course, Quinn," Rachel says. "Thank you for letting me take you out."

"Even though you gave me little choice."

"You had fun," Rachel lightly accuses.

This time, Quinn is the one who sneaks a kiss to the cheek, and Rachel melts on the spot. "I did," Quinn confirms, and then she's really going, opening the door and mumbling her goodbye.

Rachel watches her go in silence, a smile on her face, even though all she wants is to call Quinn back and spend the rest of the next chunk of forever by her side.

Tomorrow.

Maybe they'll try Indian food next.

* * *

There are more questions when Rachel intends to leave the next morning. She loves her fathers, of course, but the last thing she needs is their getting too involved in how she's trying to woo Quinn.

She definitely can't tell them she may or may not be trying to convince the most stunning girl on the planet to date her. They'll want to know more about her, and, while Rachel isn't ashamed of Quinn; she wants to give her as much privacy as she can.

"I'm meeting someone," is all she offers them, and then she's gone, eager to lay eyes on Quinn.

This time, Quinn is waiting in the front office with Lynn and Maggie when Rachel arrives, and the two of them endure a healthy dose of teasing before they're able to leave, both of them flushed in embarrassment.

Quinn apologises for them as they get outside, eyes bright, and Rachel desperately wants to touch her. "I think they're just relieved I'm not spending the entire Winter Break indoors."

"They _do_ know we went to the _library_ yesterday, right?"

Quinn grins at her. "I was very hush hush about what we did," she says. "Totally drove Maggie crazy."

"She probably thinks we committed a crime," Rachel says. "I've been known to live life on the edge."

"Oh?"

"Sometimes, I don't even look left twice when I'm crossing the road," Rachel quips, and it gets the most glorious laugh out of Quinn. Her head even tips back, and Rachel knows she'll take this girl anywhere she wants.

She'll take her everywhere.

For today, though, she takes her to a restaurant named Shahi Punjab just a few miles away from the shelter. Rachel's convinced they serve the best Butter Chicken in all of Lima. She wants Quinn to try it. And their onion pakora, and the garlic naan.

Okay.

Maybe they'll hold out on the garlic until they've known each other a little longer.

They're seated as soon as they walk in and handed large menus with actual pictures of the meals. Quinn's eyes bug out slightly as she takes in all the various dishes, listed under which protein they use.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," Quinn confesses.

Rachel smiles a little knowingly. "It can be overwhelming, yeah," she says. "Would you mind if I ordered a few of my favourite dishes to start? Maybe, next time, you can try something else."

Quinn blinks. "Next time?"

Rachel flushes. "Um," she stammers. "I just mean - well - "

Quinn giggles, setting the menu on the table. "Sure, okay, that sounds like a plan," she says. "What are you planning on ordering?"

Rachel forces herself to recover as quickly as possible. "That depends," she says. "Is there anything you don't eat, and how much spice can you handle?"

"I'm not a fan of eggplant, and I think it's safe to say I can't handle a lot of spice." She pauses, mouth pulling into a smirk. "Though, I seem to be getting used to you."

"Are you calling me spicy?"

"Seems only fitting," Quinn teases, and then startles a little when their waiter returns to take their order. She orders an ice tea for herself, and then gestures for Rachel to order their food.

Rachel orders by numbers, mainly because she doesn't want to embarrass herself with the wrong pronunciation in front of Quinn. Not that she thinks Quinn will be able to tell, but it's still something.

Quinn still smiles as if she can tell, and Rachel wishes she were sitting beside her instead of opposite her. "It smells nice in here," she says after a moment. "The aroma or whatever. It's warm." She shakes her head at the sound of her own words. "Yeah."

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I tell you something and have you not freak out?"

Quinn shifts in her seat - that maybe-nervous-tic coming out - and nods her head. "Okay."

Rachel leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her heart is beating just a little too fast, but she's going to be brave. "I like you." It's probably a good thing Quinn doesn't respond, because Rachel doesn't want to lose her thunder. "I liked you the moment I saw you, and maybe that's superficial of me, but I was immediately drawn to you, and I haven't been able to think about anyone or anything else since we met."

Quinn looks like a deer caught in headlights, and it is adorable.

"And, I know you're reluctant to start anything, which is okay - it's totally okay - but I just want you to know there's nothing about you that I've seen that has made me _not_ want to get to know you more."

Quinn doesn't respond for the longest time, and Rachel starts to regret her desire to be truthful. She should know not to lay her cards out like that. It was brave. And stupid, and she just knows that -

"Okay."

Rachel's head snaps up. "Okay?"

"I am not freaking out," Quinn tells her. "I probably won't say this again, unless it changes, but you should know that I like you, too." Her voice wavers a little, as if her nerves are going to get the better of her, and Rachel reaches out her hand. Quinn takes it, linking their fingers on the tabletop, and it feels amazing.

"Okay."

Quinn grins, squeezes Rachel's fingers, and then takes her hand back to run it through her loose hair. Rachel watches her every move like a lovesick fool, she's sure, and she doesn't even care if Quinn can tell. Quinn must be aware by now, so Rachel is just going to run with it.

It takes another moment for them to settle, and they get to talking about how Quinn spent her morning. "With Steve," she elaborates. "He desperately wants to be able to read _Harry Potter_ with his daughter when she's old enough."

"That's cute," Rachel says. "And that's really good of you, Quinn."

She shrugs, eyes dropping down. "I have the time and the ability," she says. "I tutor other students at school, anyway."

That catches Rachel's interest. "What school do you go to?" she asks. "Because I'm certain I've never seen you at William McKinley."

Quinn looks a little uncomfortable when she says, "I go to St Andrew's."

"Oh."

"You can say it."

"I'm not sure what you expect me to say," Rachel says.

"It's a private Catholic school," Quinn says. "And I am very obviously not straight."

Rachel exaggerates a gasp. "You're not?"

Quinn smiles at her. "I most definitely am not," she confirms. "I'm not entirely sure what I am, but I'm certain I like girls, and that was enough for my parents to kick me out." She says it softly, almost confidentially, and Rachel's heart hurts for her.

"Can I ask what happened?" Rachel ventures. "If you're comfortable talking about it, of course."

Quinn shifts in her seat - her tell. "It happened over Thanksgiving," she starts. "They were never supposed to find out, but - "

"They did?"

"My boyfriend told them," Quinn says, and Rachel's breath catches in her throat, because _that_ is really unexpected. "He thought he was helping. I was struggling with it, determined to hide it, and I'd told him in the middle of a panic, and he promised things would be okay. He promised he would help, and then - " her voice breaks. "He was over for dinner. We'd barely been together a month, and he thought it would be the perfect time to ruin my life." Her fingers fidget on the table. "They gave me half an hour to leave, and I called Lynn to pick me up. I just - I didn't know what else to do, and I couldn't go with _him_ , and I - "

Rachel can't stop herself when she gets to her feet and immediately rounds the table. She slides into the chair beside Quinn and wraps her arms around her. It's the first time they've really touched like this, and Rachel tries desperately to still her racing heart.

Quinn is stiff for a long moment before she leans into Rachel, relaxing her body and allowing the hug to go on. Rachel whispers soft, sweet words right into her ear, and Quinn manages to calm enough to grow embarrassed.

"Don't do that," Rachel says when Quinn tries to pull away. "It's okay. It's why I'm here."

"So I can slobber all over you?"

"So you know you have the option to, if you want or need it," Rachel clarifies. "I want to be that person for you."

"Rachel."

"I know we've just met," she rushes to say. "And I know you've had some horrible experiences until now, but I - is it so wild that I would want to be a good experience for you?"

"What's wild is that you're still here after I unloaded all of that."

Rachel reaches out to touch her fingertips to Quinn's cheek, wiping at tears she's sure Quinn doesn't even realise are there. "Maybe, after today, we'll be a lamb vindaloo."

"What?"

Rachel just smiles. "How are you doing right now?"

"Well, if you must know, I think my heart is beating a million miles an hour at the moment," Quinn tells her.

"Because you're embarrassed?" she asks, frowning. "You don't have to - "

"Because you're touching me," Quinn clarifies.

"Oh," Rachel says, starting to pull away.

"Don't," Quinn says. "Stay."

"Okay."

* * *

Rachel learns Quinn is a fan of mutton karahi from the first bite she puts in her mouth. A sound escapes her that makes Rachel squirm, and she doesn't think she's ever been this attracted to another human being in her life.

Sure, okay, she's only sixteen, but everything feels intense in a way that doesn't feel childish. They're dealing with adult things now; the two of them trying to be as open about their intentions towards each other.

Rachel spends a lot of the next hour just watching Quinn, unable to stop herself from staring. It's really all she wants to do, and she barely looks away whenever Quinn catches her.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to send you back to your old seat," Quinn says, wearing a blush and a smile.

Rachel bumps her knee against Quinn's. "I think you like having me next to you."

"I'm pretty sure you'd prefer the view from across me, though," Quinn points out.

"That is... actually true," Rachel agrees with a dreamy sigh. "My neck is getting a little sore turning to look at you as often as I do."

"You _do_ like me, don't you?"

"An unreal amount."

Quinn grins at her, perfect teeth on display, and Rachel couldn't look away if she tried. "That thing that I just ate," she starts.

"Mutton karahi."

"I would sell my soul for it."

"Please don't do that."

"I won't," Quinn assures; "but just know that I would."

* * *

After they've eaten, Quinn asks to go to the library again, and the two of them spend a further three hours dissecting Harry Potter for the built-world it is.

Quinn admits to her experience with the books being a recent thing, given her sheltered upbringing. "They called them Devil books," she says with a slight shrug. "I just think they're magic." She grins. "Pun intended."

"I think _you're_ magic," Rachel says without thought, and Quinn looks at her with the softest expression.

Then she leans across the couch, crowds into Rachel's space and says, "I'm going to kiss you now," and then _does_ the moment Rachel nods.

It's light, just a soft press of lips.

It's magic and fireworks and everything right with the world, and Rachel can't imagine what good fortune she's managed to accumulate to be afforded this moment with this glorious, gorgeous girl.

Quinn looks a little uncertain when she pulls back, so Rachel offers her most reassuring smile. "Okay?" Quinn asks.

"Okay," she confirms. "You?"

Quinn leans in again, kisses her once more, just a little longer, and Rachel hears the answer for exactly what it is.

* * *

Rachel manages to take Quinn for Chinese, Jamaican and Vietnamese food before her fathers sit her down and seriously question what she's been doing with her days.

She expected it, of course, so she's not surprised when they withhold dessert in favour of getting some answers for the reason she's always eager to leave in the late morning and returns buzzing and content in the late afternoon.

Since they met, there hasn't been a day she hasn't seen Quinn, and she's learned so much about her in the progress. She now knows Quinn isn't a huge fan of mushrooms, but she can tolerate them. She loves all types of noodles, and would die for a good soup. Her spice tolerance is also pitiful, and Rachel has learned she doesn't react well to being laughed at - particularly about her obsession with John Green books.

Rachel has also learned Quinn is a phenomenal kisser.

They don't do it often, and never for very long. Quinn is still hesitant a lot of the time, and Rachel is trying to be so careful with her. She doesn't want to do anything to scare her away and rushing would be sure to do that.

She _has_ talked to Quinn about what they're doing, though, and they've decided they're actually dating. Getting Quinn to agree to even that took some time, given the way she views herself at this point in time.

Rachel wishes she would understand just how amazing she is, truly.

They're dating, though, and the official title makes Rachel feel weirdly giddy. They're _dating_. Which Quinn insists on doing the right way. That basically means she's in charge of some of their dates, and Rachel isn't going to argue with her over something like that.

So, Rachel doesn't feel too disingenuous when she says, "I'm dating someone."

From the looks on their faces, the news is unexpected, and she's trying not to read too much into it.

"I also think I might already be in love, but I wouldn't really know how to tell," she adds after a moment. "I just know that I'm literally the happiest I've ever been, and I'm trying not to think about anything else."

"Someone," LeRoy says, blinking slowly.

Rachel shifts in her seat. "We met when I was volunteering on Christmas," she explains. "We've been getting to know each other since then."

"Who is this someone?" Hiram asks. "Do we know them? I wasn't aware there were other teenagers volunteering at that shelter."

Rachel internally winces, because technically there aren't that she's aware of, either. "Her name is Quinn," she eventually reveals.

Hiram and LeRoy exchange a look.

"Please don't do that," she says. "You already know girls are an option for me. She's out, and I guess I am too, and please don't make this weirder than it has to be."

"We're just worried, Sweetheart," LeRoy says, which she could have guessed without his having to say the words.

"And I appreciate that," Rachel says. "But it's the holidays, and we deserve good things, and you definitely don't need any more wrinkles."

Hiram gasps, hands reaching for his face. "You take that back."

Rachel grins at them both. "Would you like to meet her?"

"Already meeting the parents, I see," LeRoy teases.

"I want to invite her over tomorrow," Rachel explains. "Is that okay?"

"To spend New Year's with you?"

"I find that I want to spend every single one of my waking moments with her," she confesses. "Is that normal?"

Apparently, it is, and it's all she thinks about as she cleans up after dinner and sits for a while with her fathers. She texts Quinn on and off, now that she actually has the blonde's phone number, but it isn't until later that she works up the courage to call her for the first time.

It's just ridiculous how much Rachel wants to hear her voice.

And doubly ridiculous the way she smiles when Quinn answers. Rachel squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself not to sigh dreamily when Quinn says, "I saw you literally four hours ago."

Rachel's safely tucked away behind her locked bedroom door, which is why she feels safe enough to say, "I miss you."

Quinn lets out a breath. "Need I mention again that we saw each other literally four hours ago?"

"Does that mean you're not missing me?"

"I didn't say that."

"No, you didn't."

Quinn hums softly, and then says, "Hi, you."

"Hey."

"You called me."

"I did."

"For a reason? Or did you just want to hear my voice?"

"Bit of both," Rachel admits, unashamed to reveal that much. Quinn has always accepted the truth from her, and Rachel isn't about to start lying now.

"Would you like me to tell you a bedtime story?"

"That sounds like a dream," Rachel says with a sigh. "In a minute, please. There's actually something I wanted to ask you."

"What's up?"

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" Rachel asks, curling her body around a pillow as she lies on her bed. She does not imagine it being Quinn.

She absolutely doesn't.

"Sleeping."

Rachel giggles softly. "I - do you - are you actually doing anything?"

"Not really," Quinn answers. "I'm sure Maggie and Lynn have something planned for everyone, but I'm kind of the only teenager here, which kind of sucks most of the time, so I'll probably - "

"Do you want to spend New Year's Eve with me?" she blurts out. "Here. At my house. With me. And my parents, I guess, though they have this party they're attending, so it'll really be with just me. We can just hang out, maybe watch some movies, eat lots of junk food. You don't have to, of course, but I - I really want to spend the evening with just you, if you'd like."

"Rachel," Quinn says. "Are you done?"

"Yes."

"What exactly are you asking me?"

"I want to pick you up tomorrow, and then drop you off in the new year," she says. "Which means you'll need to pack a bag and then spend at least twenty-four hours in my presence."

"A sleepover."

"Is that too much?" Rachel asks. "Am I asking too much?"

Quinn breathes deeply. "Okay," she says. "We can do that." Then: "What do your parents know about me?"

"That you're beautiful."

"Rachel."

"I mean, they _do_ know that," she says. "And that you're a girl and we're dating." Her heart flutters as she says the words because she still hasn't managed to get used to the idea of them actually being together. "They know how happy I am right now, and they want to meet the person responsible for that."

"Do they know where I live?"

Here, Rachel hesitates. "No," she answers. "I want you to be able to share the parts of yourself you'd like to, however you'd like to."

Quinn takes a beat to respond. "You're not ashamed?"

"Not even a little bit," Rachel says. "I'm proud of you."

"Rachel."

"Repeatedly saying my name isn't making me want you any less," Rachel tells her. "Is that a yes? If not, can I still see you tomorrow?"

"Rachel."

"Hmm?"

"I don't even have actual pyjamas."

Rachel giggles, her heart leaping into her throat. "You can borrow some of mine."

* * *

"You don't have to be nervous."

Quinn glances at her, expression a little dark. "You should know that saying those words doesn't actually help me."

Rachel just smiles at her, leans in to kiss her cheek, and then moves to open the front door to their house. She knows her parents are inside, probably relaxing after a late lunch, and the upcoming moments are going to be significant in the future of _RachelandQuinn_.

Quinn reaches for her hand to stop her. "Can I tell you something and have you not freak out?" she says, eyes focused on Rachel's face.

"Okay."

"I don't think I could handle it if another set of parents were to reject me," Quinn admits. "I - "

"Quinn," Rachel says, stepping right into her space. "They're not going to reject you. Particularly not for your sexuality."

"Then for what?"

"Maybe for you choice as your favourite ice-cream."

"There is nothing wrong with bubblegum."

"Why isn't it strawberry?"

Quinn kisses her, gently enough that Rachel can feel her nerves in the trembling of her lips. "I just - I want you to know that I want this to work out, and I'm sorry if it doesn't."

Rachel shakes her head. "You're worried for nothing," she declares, and then delights in the fact her parents prove her right.

Quinn's concern evaporates within minutes, Hiram trying to ply her with food and LeRoy immediately latching onto Rachel's offhanded, _her favourite ice-cream is bubblegum_. Quinn keeps glancing at her with something like disbelief in her eyes, and Rachel holds onto her hand through all of it.

Rachel knows Quinn wins them over when she offers to help with dinner and inadvertently shows off cooking skills no member of the Berry family has. She makes a chicken pot pie _from scratch_ , and Rachel loses her train of thought far too many times just watching her hands that her fathers even give up on teasing her about her distraction.

Like, Quinn straight-up _makes_ pastry.

LeRoy ends up eating two slices, singing Quinn's praises until she's beet red. Rachel even risks kissing her cheek at the dining table, and Quinn surprises her by leaning into it rather than pulling away.

After they've eaten their full, Rachel does the cleaning up while Quinn watches. Rachel insists, given Quinn did all the wonderful cooking, and there is something particularly thrilling about knowing Quinn is just watching her for the sake of watching her.

When her parents leave for their party, Rachel expects things to turn even a little awkward, but that doesn't happen. Quinn just kisses her cheek and drifts towards the selection of DVDs in the living room.

Quinn ends up picking _13 Going On 30_ , and Rachel learns what all the fuss is about significant others wearing your clothes. They get changed into their pyjamas, Quinn sliding into an oversized baby blue pair of Rachel's and sending her heart into overdrive. Rachel didn't realise it before, but she would happily let Quinn live in her clothes for the rest of her life.

Rachel makes popcorn while Quinn sets up the movie in the living room. She shifts the coffee table out of the way and lays out blankets and pillows. She dims the lights, tends to the fire, and then takes her place leaning against the front of the main couch. When Rachel finally joins her, Quinn pats the space between her legs, and Rachel doesn't even question it.

They get settled, Rachel's back against her front, and Quinn's arms wrapped around her waist. Popcorn is saved for later, and Quinn presses play on the remote.

Rachel doesn't register a single second of the movie, too focused on the movement of Quinn's chest behind her. She's warm and she smells like cinnamon, and none of it is helping with Rachel's whole I'm-falling-in-love problem.

Quinn doesn't seem to be paying that much attention either, but she's not entirely focused on this room either.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

Quinn doesn't immediately respond, which isn't anything new. She likes to think through her responses, which is something Rachel finds she appreciates. "I'm just thinking about what my family must be doing right now," she says, quiet enough that Rachel has to strain to hear her. It's a good thing she's tucked against her body.

"What are they doing?"

"Probably hosting a party," Quinn says. "For all their church and work friends." She sighs. "I just - I wonder what they're saying to explain my absence. I've always wondered."

"People don't know?"

"Not really," Quinn admits. "Just my parents, my ex, and Lynn and Maggie. And, I guess whoever has seen us around town. But no, nobody really knows."

"Not even at school?"

Quinn stiffens for a beat, and then shakes her head.

"What about your friends?" Rachel asks. "Do they know you're no longer living with your family?"

"No."

Rachel squeezes Quinn's hand. "That must be hard."

"Not really," Quinn says with a shrug. "I take the bus really early and really late, so nobody can tell that my mother isn't dropping me off and picking me up. Nobody really visited me at home, because my parents are really strict. My school fees are paid for the rest of the year, and I have all the books and uniforms I need. I just - things will change when I turn sixteen. Things will change when my emancipation is confirmed. It's just that the courts also seem to take a break over the holidays."

"What would emancipation mean for you?" Rachel asks.

"I would be free from them," Quinn says. "I would also be considered an adult, despite my minor age. I could find a place to live and sign a lease myself. Get a job and earn money as an adult." She smiles softly. "Pay taxes."

"Basically, my younger girlfriend would become my _much older_ girlfriend," Rachel says unthinkingly, and then freezes, because that's not - they've never actually talked about labels for -

Quinn just drops a kiss onto the top of her head, and Rachel melts into her. "I'll be able to take you all sorts of places," she whispers.

Rachel yawns. "Right now, it seems I want to go to dreamland."

Quinn chuckles lightly. "Rach, it isn't even eleven o'clock yet."

Rachel snuggles into her that bit further. "I'm so glad you're here," she whispers, her eyes closing. "You're very warm."

"Oh, I see how it is."

Rachel hums, relaxing further.

Quinn's fingers trace the inside of her wrist, and the casual touch is almost enough to lull Rachel to sleep.

"Will things be different when school starts up?" Rachel asks after a moment.

"I doubt we'll be able to spend hours together every day, if that's what you're asking," Quinn jokes.

"But we'll spend time together?"

"I have a new schedule this semester," Quinn says; "but we're definitely going to spend time together. We'll just have to adjust."

"Fit each other into our schedules?"

"I don't know how else to make sure I see you," Quinn admits. "At least not until I'm more settled in what my life is now going to be like."

"What happens if your friends find out about me? Your school?"

"Are you asking if I'm planning on hiding who you are to me?"

"I'm just trying to be prepared."

Quinn sighs heavily. "They can't kick me out or anything," she says. "There's an older girl, Nicole, who's out, and people have been okay with her. That I've seen, at least."

"Maybe you should talk to her about it," Rachel offers.

"I think I will, yeah." She shifts slightly. "What about you? What about your school?"

"I mean, I'm already a pariah for various reasons, so I doubt much will change when they figure out I like girls," she says. "I'm more worried about you, to be honest."

"How so?"

"Believe me when I say I won't be the only one wondering what someone like you would be doing with someone like me?"

"I don't really know what you're saying with that sentence, but I know I don't like it."

Rachel turns her head to look at Quinn's face. "I just don't want you to wake up one morning and regret taking this chance on me."

"You're taking a chance on me, too, you know?"

Rachel looks right into her eyes, searching for something. She doesn't even know if she finds it. "We're figuring it out, aren't we?"

"We both admit to having no idea what we're doing, so, yeah, I don't know what else we're supposed to do."

"You're okay though? With what we're doing?"

Quinn tucks her forefinger under Rachel's chin and tilts her head up to kiss her sweetly. Her teeth are even aching when Quinn pulls back. "I'm okay," she assures her. "You?"

"Okay."

* * *

At the stroke of midnight, Rachel kisses Quinn long and hard enough that she ends up straddling Quinn's legs. Fingers in her hair and tongue in her mouth. It's the most they've done, and she's just waiting for the moment Quinn pulls back.

She doesn't.

Quinn pulls her closer, hands sliding over her back. Rachel can feel Quinn's heart racing, and the way her hands shake. If Quinn is determined to push herself, Rachel isn't going to help. She's the one to slow their kiss to soft pecks, and then feels Quinn's mouth pull into a small smile.

Rachel noses at Quinn's cheek, breathing against her skin. "Okay?"

"Better than," Quinn tells her. "You're currently lying on top of me. I am so much better than okay right now."

"Because I'm keeping you warm?"

"Yes. That. Exactly."

Rachel giggles right into Quinn's ear, suddenly wishing they could stay frozen in this moment forever. Looking back at snapshots of her life, this is a moment she wants to hold onto. _Quinn_ is whom she wants to hold onto.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm here," Rachel says. "I'm here, for you, and I want this and I want you."

"Okay."

Rachel kisses her again. "Just wanted you to know."

"Why are you telling me this?" Quinn asks, light and curious.

"Because I get the feeling things are going to get more difficult for us, and I need you to remember these words for when they do."

"Okay." Quinn smiles, a little tremble in her bottom lip. "I - thank you for sticking with me."

"Thank you for letting me."

* * *

Rachel enjoys being right most of the time, but she wishes she'd predicted wrong about this one thing.

It is not easy for them.

Not even a little bit.

It's better that they have Rachel's parents, and Maggie and Lynn, because it takes only three weeks into their semester for their relationship to get blasted all over St Andrew's, courtesy of Quinn's ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend.

The girl, a Vanessa Bale, mistakes Shawn's desire to help Quinn and atone for his role in outing her as Quinn wanting him back, and proceeds to dig a little too deep into Rachel, who sometimes picks up Quinn from school.

The outing is accompanied by a picture of the two of them kissing, and Quinn doesn't respond to Rachel's texts for five hours and fourteen minutes past the initial bombshell.

In fact, she doesn't respond at all.

She rather shows up at Rachel's house, eyes puffy from obvious crying, and says, "Please tell me you're not leaving me, too."

Rachel doesn't even hesitate before pulling her into a hug, tight enough to hurt physically, but soothe emotionally. "I'll repeat it as many times as you need to hear it," Rachel whispers into her ear. She tugs her into the house, her foot closing the door with a soft slam.

The sound alerts her fathers, and then the entire Berry clan has Quinn wrapped in the kind of hug she can only dream of getting from her own family. Rachel feels Quinn's tears against her skin, and she just holds her tighter, willing the Universe just to let them be.

It's maybe asking for too much, but she still tries.

Rachel eventually leads Quinn up the stairs to her bedroom, hands her the set of pyjamas that Quinn has claimed as her own, and tries to think of ways to make this better.

Quinn spends the night in Rachel's bed for only the second time. The first was accidental, both of them falling asleep while doing homework, but Rachel doesn't want Quinn in the guest room tonight, and her fathers don't force the issue.

There's a lot Rachel doesn't know about Quinn's school life, and she's never quite asked in fear of what she'll learn. Tonight, though, as Rachel holds her, Quinn explains that she's actually a popular field hockey player.

"The girls' team is actually the most successful in the entire state," she explains, a little too quietly to be anything but true. "I have friends, and I have teammates, and I go to a prissy traditional school and now everyone knows I like girls and it's like - it's as terrible as I thought it would be." She sighs. "I thought my parents would be the worst of it, but I am absolutely dreading going to school tomorrow."

Rachel bites her bottom lip to stop herself from saying something ridiculous. Quinn wouldn't just leave St Andrew's to come to William McKinley in the middle of the school year. Not when she doesn't have to. And definitely not because her _girlfriend_ goes there.

Quinn presses her nose against Rachel's neck, breathing slowly. "Do you remember the first time you called me?"

"I do."

"I told you a bedtime story."

"About smurfs," Rachel recalls, giggling softly.

"You loved it."

"Almost as much as I love you." The words leave her mouth with such ease that it takes Quinn stiffening in her arms for her to register what she's just said. "I mean - not that I - it's not - "

" _Rachel_."

Her mouth closes with an audible clack.

"Are you - do you mean that?"

Rachel nods slowly. "If I'm going to be completely honest, I'd say I was heading in this direction from the moment I saw you in that ridiculous apron of yours."

"When you came in asking for greens and nearly tripped over your own feet."

"You _have_ to stop teasing me about that."

Quinn kisses the skin of Rachel's neck ever so lightly. "The reason I bring up that call is because it was the moment I was absolutely sure about you, and about us. I'm terrified of so many things, but the worst of them have happened, and I still have you."

"You still have me," Rachel confirms.

"My little Christmas miracle."

Rachel laughs. "Surprise, more like."

"No," Quinn says, and her voice is heavy with meaning. "It would have taken only you to get me to this point."

"This point?"

"Open. Free. True." Quinn nuzzles her skin. "Yours."

"We're going to be okay, right?"

Quinn hums, and Rachel feels her eyelashes brush her skin as her eyes close. "Tell me a story," she whispers.

Rachel does one better and sings her a lullaby instead.

* * *

Open. Free. True.

Rachel could barely keep up with how it felt to have Quinn in secret, so it gives her a hell of a lot more to deal with when she gets to have Quinn right out in the open. She doesn't even know how she survives the first week, or the second and third.

Because, it seems that knowing Rachel is right behind her gives Quinn all the support she needs to accept that the world knows about her and she hasn't yet been struck down for it. It is everything and nothing, and Rachel falls in love with the way Quinn eases fully into their relationship.

Of course, there are times when she's uncertain and unsure, and Rachel receives random texts asking random questions that have nothing to do with anything. Rachel knows what Quinn is asking whenever she does, which is why she always responds the same way: _you still have me_.

She doesn't mean it to become a thing, but it does.

Instead of overwhelming Quinn by repeatedly saying _I love you_ , she rather uses those four other words. In her head, they hold the same meaning, and that's enough for her while they figure out all the rest.

Which is really why being with Quinn this way is surprising. Rachel thought she knew what to expect of Quinn once their relationship was no longer a secret, but Quinn has a pattern of surprising her. Not that Rachel is complaining or anything. It's just quite a bit to handle once Quinn accepts they can be together and actually be okay.

As a result, things of significance happen around them and for them and because of them, but Quinn still asks Rachel that very important question, just with her eyes. It makes what they have feel real, even when a lot of other things feel unreal.

Almost _surreal_.

Like, the way official dates together usually end with the two of them tucked away in the magic of the library. The way Quinn always blushes whenever Rachel kisses her cheek. On the lips is fine, but she turns into an adorable baby gay whenever Rachel is anywhere near her cheeks, for some reason.

There's also the way Quinn is always on the lookout for new cuisines and restaurants for them to try together, taking particular delight in ones even Rachel hasn't tried. And then there's the way Quinn stops 'giving in' to her. For a while, in the beginning, Rachel felt as if she were always the one almost convincing Quinn to spend time with her; to keep taking that chance on her, but then that apprehension disappears into a cloud of smoke and everything is infinitely better.

Quinn's emancipation arrives the same day she turns sixteen, which is also the same day she feels comfortable enough to reveal to Rachel's parents what's been her living situation for the past few months.

They're both expectedly horrified, immediately opening up their home and making sure Quinn knows she's their family now. It's heartbreaking and breathtaking, but Quinn also reveals she's found a small apartment in the same building as Lynn, and she's going to be moving in within the week.

Later, Quinn blushes through asking Rachel to visit her on Valentine's Day. She says, "I'd really like the first meal I cook in my new kitchen to be for you," and Rachel tackles her onto her bed and kisses her senseless the way a birthday girl deserves.

The way _Quinn_ deserves.

* * *

Quinn makes fajitas.

They're hot and spicy, and Quinn grins mischievously when she says, "Just like us."

Rachel doesn't fight her urge to tug her into a kiss by the front of her sweater and whisper _I love you_ against her lips. Quinn still gets a little squirmy about the words, so Rachel expects the following moments to be slightly awkward as they recalibrate to the status quo.

But Quinn surprises her - of course she does - when she says, "I love you, too," and then twists away to fetch the salsa she's also made. Rachel sits, frozen in place, as the words seep into her skin and essentially change everything.

Quinn sets a bowl on the tiny kitchen table, and then another bowl of guacamole she's also made beside it. Rachel has seen the endless number of cookbooks she's accumulated in just the few weeks they've been exploring all sorts of international cuisines. One of her new favourites is Korean barbecue.

Rachel can't even focus on the food.

Quinn just told her she loves her. And then acted as if she said nothing monumental. That's not - it's something -

"I reckon my spice-tolerance has really improved," Quinn says as she takes her seat, the two of them breaking in her new old furniture. A lot of it is leftover from donations to the shelter, all mismatched and a little rundown.

Quinn calls it rustic, and Rachel loves how proud she is of this tiny home she's managed to cultivate for herself. She gets this look on her face whenever she lets her eyes take in the space.

It's _hers_.

"It's amazing what exposure can do," Quinn comments, pushing a plate of food in Rachel's direction. "Eat. Please. Before it gets cold."

Rachel still doesn't move, her heart beating just that bit faster than it normally does - even in Quinn's presence. "You love me," she says.

This time, Quinn does go still. "I - yeah," she says. "Is that okay?"

" _Is that okay_?" she echoes. "Are you - do you mean that?"

Quinn looks right into her eyes. "I very rarely say things I don't mean," she points out, which is something Rachel has learned in the weeks they've known each other. "I'm telling you, and I probably won't say it again unless - "

"It changes," Rachel finishes for her, a tiny smile on her face. "So, I can just expect you to love me until you tell me something different?"

"Basically."

Rachel ponders that for a moment. She doesn't think she's the kind of person who needs constant expression of a person's feelings - coincidentally, not like Quinn - so she thinks she'll be okay with that as long as Quinn shows her affection in other ways.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you come here for a second?"

Quinn looks predictably bemused, but she gets out of her seat and moves to Rachel's side. She stands, expectantly, until Rachel pulls her right into her lap, getting the most delightful shriek out of her.

"Rachel!" She laughs, hands automatically holding onto Rachel's shoulders. "You don't even know if this rackety old chair can hold our combined weight."

"It wouldn't be the first time I fall for you."

Quinn groans. "Oh, my God, why would you even say that?"

"It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

Quinn leans in close, rubbing their noses together. "Are you okay?" she asks softly, resting her forehead against Rachel's.

_Is she okay?_ It's a complicated question in many regards, but simple to answer when she has Quinn Fabray in her lap and this girl's love in her heart. "I'm great," she says. "I just - I wanted you close."

"I'm right here."

"Sometimes, I can barely believe this is my life," Rachel admits.

Quinn leans back, grinning. "Believe me, neither can I." She looks around her, taking in the studio space that she now gets to call home. "But it's my life, and you're a part of it, and I struggle with a lot of things on a daily basis, but you - "

"I what?"

Quinn kisses her, gently and lingering. "After everything, you still want me, which just proves that I'm not - I'm not some hopeless case."

"You've never been," Rachel assures her. "You're so strong and resilient, and you should be proud of yourself."

Quinn looks away, a blush on her cheeks. "The night we met - "

"If you tease me about almost tripping over myself on what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year, I'm going home," she says, huffing.

Quinn kisses her cheek. "What I'm trying to tell you is that something changed the night we met. With me, because of you."

Rachel listens in silence, sensing something important in Quinn's tone of voice.

"I hadn't left the shelter at all, except to go to school and back," Quinn continues. "I didn't - I was stuck in this perpetual place where I - I thought I was - "

"You told me there wasn't anything exciting or interesting about you," Rachel says, realising she needs some help. Her own heart aches at the words Quinn said that night. "You said you were nobody, and that you had nothing and no one."

Quinn blinks a few times, eyes wet. "You're the only one who didn't believe me."

"I knew it had to be untrue."

"Why?"

They've never really talked about this in this way. It was blatantly obvious that Rachel was alarmingly attracted to Quinn that first night. She was fascinated beyond common sense, and Quinn could have been anyone and Rachel still would have bent over backwards to spend time with her.

"There was just something about you," Rachel reveals, unable to come up with the right words. "Something I can't describe, and maybe that's for the best." She meets Quinn's gaze. "I just knew that you were a person I had to know, and I'm so glad I listened to my instincts and essentially forced you to hang out with me."

"You showed up for me."

"You've always had me, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "I know we're young and we haven't known each other all that long, but that feeling from that night - this unmistakable desire to _be with you_ \- has never disappeared, and I hope it never does."

"I stopped seeing myself a certain way that night," Quinn tells her. "You make me feel worthy; that I don't have anything to be ashamed of. I can be this person."

"Open, free and true."

Quinn kisses her, just once. "I'm applying for my driver's licence," she says. Another kiss. "Maggie's helping me buy her little brother's old car at a good price." Another, longer kiss. "Lynn and I agreed it's probably in my best interests to line up a move out of St Andrew's at the end of the school year."

Rachel's heart stutters in her chest, because that means -

"So, you reckon you'd like having your girlfriend at William McKinley next year?" She asks the question as easily as she can, but her voice trembles as if she's genuinely worried.

She's so silly.

Rachel nods. "I'd love that," she confirms, choosing not to respond with a sarcastic quip. Now isn't the time for that. Not when Quinn's brow is creased with a show of nerves Rachel has rarely seen beyond the first few days after they met.

"You would?"

"So much."

Quinn breathes out in relief. Goodness, she's _so_ silly. "Okay."

"Okay."

"We should probably eat," Quinn says, though she doesn't move. "I made all this food for us, and it would be the biggest shame for it to go to waste."

It would be, and Rachel knows Quinn would never let that happen. She's living as a minimalist now, and they're both acutely aware of the value of the things and the food they have.

"It won't," Rachel informs her, which is unnecessary.

Quinn hums. "I'll just heat it up after I'm done kissing you," she says, almost too easily, and Rachel anticipates it's going to be a while before her mouth is free to consume food.

It's just another thing she enjoys being right about.

* * *

On a Tuesday in late March, Rachel's car is in the shop for some fine tuning, and Quinn is the one to fetch her from her school in her old new little _Mazda_ hatchback. It's bright blue with a dent in the front bumper, but it moves well and Quinn loves it.

" _Her_ ," Quinn always corrects. "Her name is Dorothy."

Rachel is waiting out front for her, the two of them with plans to work on their homework at the library. It's been quite a day, and she's a lot irritated with her peers as a result. Her hair is still damp from the aftermath of a slushy to the face, and she wants nothing more than to be in Quinn's arms right at this moment.

She perks up when she sees Quinn arrive, right at the same moment two cheerleaders come up beside her. She's used to them, of course, determined not to let nasty words affect her. They're just bored, with complicated ways to keep themselves occupied.

It doesn't bother her.

What it does is embarrass her, because Quinn is here and she doesn't want her girlfriend to see her this way.

Rachel starts to walk to where Quinn has slid into a parking spot, and the cheerleaders follow. Megan and Bianca, as far as Rachel is aware. They say things about her clothes and her parents and her nose and her perceived though-not-confirmed sexuality and just her general persona.

Until they just don't.

They fall silent as if off a cliff, and Rachel's head lifts up in confusion. They're not even looking at her anymore, attention somewhere in front of them, and Rachel doesn't even have to look to figure what must have their focus.

Quinn is standing outside her car, leaning against her driver's door and looking unfairly gorgeous. Rachel half-expected Quinn to show up in her school uniform or field hockey practice kit, but she's in neither.

Instead, she's dressed in what Rachel would call the epitome of summer. She's a bit of an enigma, really, but the bright yellow dress she's wearing is fitting for the sunshine of the day, and Rachel's breath catches in her throat. Her hair is loose, still a little damp from her post-practice shower but drying in the wind. She's in white sandals, black Wayfarers over her eyes, and she has drawn everyone's attention in the parking lot.

If people didn't know who she was before, they do now.

"That's not - " Bianca says at the same time Megan says, "That can't be - "

Rachel isn't even paying attention to either of them, her feet carrying her towards Quinn. She even speeds up a little, smile tugging at her mouth. Quinn's own smile blooms across her face once Rachel is near enough, and she just looks so happy to see her that Rachel throws caution to the wind and practically leaps into Quinn's arms.

Of course, Quinn catches her easily, laughing as she maintains her balance.

Eyes are on them, Rachel can tell, but she still kisses Quinn's cheek in greeting. Just this moment has made her entire day better. If she could bottle Quinn up and keep her close forever, she would. She's just a balm for anyone's bad mood.

Rachel eventually releases her, straightening her skirt. "Hi," she says, a little flushed from her own greeting.

Quinn smiles at her. "Hi," she whispers. "Look at you."

"Look at _you_ ," she shoots back, heart beating too fast to be normal. Surely, by now, her heart would stop racing around Quinn. It's just embarrassing at this point. "I've never seen this dress before."

Quinn glances down at herself. "It was at my parents' house," she says. "My sister brought a bunch of stuff for me when she visited last night, because I really grabbed just winter stuff when I left, you know."

Ah.

Quinn's sister.

Rachel hasn't met her, and she's not sure she wants to. Frannie is this strange bridge between Quinn and her old world: her family and church. She's neither accepting but also not shunning, and Rachel just doesn't want Quinn to end up hurt if a day comes she picks the wrong side.

Quinn opens her mouth to say something more, but stops before she can speak, attention caught by something behind Rachel.

Rachel sighs. "Ignore them," she says, hand reaching for the fabric of Quinn's summer dress. " _Please_."

Quinn keeps her eyes focused elsewhere. "Are these the people giving you trouble?" she asks.

" _Quinn_."

"I'm not going to do anything," she confirms, and Rachel breathes out in relief. " _Now_."

Her eyes snap to Quinn's face.

"I'm going to tear them apart when I get here," she says, a little nonchalantly, as if it's a given. Rachel definitely shouldn't find it as sexy as she does, but Quinn Fabray is a sight to behold when her facial expression takes on that protective determination.

"Should I make a list?" Rachel asks, only half-joking.

Quinn looks at her. "That's a brilliant idea," she says. "You can make it once we get to the library. I have so much homework, and I have this group project with guess who? Vanessa." She groans, looking to the sky. "He's testing me. Oh, He's testing me."

Rachel giggles and kisses her cheek again, just because she can. Quinn's blush isn't as prominent when she does it these days, but it's still there, and Rachel loves her. So much.

Quinn shifts back and leads the way towards the passenger's side of the car, casually opening the door for Rachel and taking her backpack from her. She tosses it into the backseat with her own as Rachel gets into the car.

Then.

Quinn bends and presses a kiss right against her lips, which is surprising but so welcomed. She's smiling when she pulls back. "Just so they know," she says. "You have me."

Rachel drags her into another kiss, and then pushes her away, feeling giddy and rebellious and supercharged. She keeps her focus on Quinn as she closes the door and then turns.

People are still staring and Rachel panics that she's going to go against her word and do something now when she said she wouldn't.

It could have been worse, Rachel thinks, when all Quinn does is wave at the people staring and say, "Take a picture; it'll last longer," and then gets moving once more.

Rachel can't hold back her amusement once Quinn is safely in the driver's seat, belt buckled. She shakes her head at the feigned innocence on Quinn's face.

"What am I ever going to do with you?" Rachel asks, sighing dreamily.

"You can help me with my _Macbeth_ essay," she says, checking her mirrors and shifting the car into reverse. "Ambition, Rachel, can be a terrible thing."

Rachel hears something specific in her voice, and she turns her head. "Who are you talking about?"

Quinn doesn't look at her when she says, "Did you know my father's planning on running for mayor?"

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Is that why - " Rachel starts to ask, and then stops. She doesn't actually want to ask the question, because she doesn't want Quinn to have to answer it.

She does, anyway. "It's part of the reason, I'm sure," she explains. "My whole life, we were expected to be these perfect children. He'd parade us around, highlighting all our accomplishments and pitting us against each other in front of all his potential donors." She slows and comes to a stop at a red light. "I think, if Shawn hadn't been present for my outing, they would have forced me to stay in the closet to save face, so disowning me was just their next option. To keep the church's support. To make sure he can get elected."

Rachel has never met Quinn's parents, but she hates them.

"I'm okay," Quinn says. "I lost so much. So many people. I just - I - "

Rachel reaches for her hand where it's resting on the bottom of the steering wheel. "You still have me," she says.

Quinn glances at her, tiny smile on her face. "My little Christmas miracle."

"I resent that word."

Quinn's eyebrows rise. "Christmas?" She grins. "Miracle?"

Rachel's arms fold across her chest and she exaggerates a pout. " _Little_."

Quinn laughs at her expense, eyes softening. "I love you," she says, which is only the second time she's ever said it out loud. With actual words.

Rachel just stares, slack-jawed, because she was convinced the next time she'd hear the words would be on their wedding day. She doesn't actually want to draw attention to it, but she can't help it. "You said you'd say it again only if it changed," she points out, unable to resist.

Quinn seems to be waiting for it, because she barely misses a beat when she says, "It has."

Rachel doesn't really know what that means and she's not willing to ask. Her expectations of something changing would mean her love fading, but Quinn's basically said it _again_ and it's confusing.

Quinn takes off when the light changes, and they drive another mile before Quinn says, "I love you more now than I did then," which is just the -

God, it's the cutest thing.

_She's_ the most adorable when she's like this, a mixture of nervous and certain about her words and her feelings, and Rachel feels herself uncurling and drifting closer to her. Quinn is magnetic that way, and Rachel is powerless to resist her.

It's all Rachel is thinking about when Quinn pulls into the parking lot of the library. She finds a spot easily, and parks expertly. She even smiles to herself at a job well done, and Rachel has never felt this kind of emotion before. It's overwhelming and potent and there's no running from it.

The night they met, she couldn't imagine not knowing this girl, and that feeling still remains all these months later. Life just wouldn't have the same meaning and she just knows she and Quinn have so much more time together.

Quinn looks at her when she's turned off the ignition, her expression a little confused when it becomes obvious Rachel is making no move to get out. "Rachel?"

There are so many words Rachel wants to say, but she has the feeling Quinn already knows them. So, instead, she asks, "Just how much homework do you have?"

Quinn looks a little bemused. "A lot," she says. "Like, so much."

"Reckon you can spare a few minutes?"

"For what?"

"I'd really like to kiss you."

Quinn blushes, and then laughs. "I think Lady Macbeth and her husband can wait," she decides, and then leans in at the same time Rachel does.

In the end, Lady Macbeth ends up waiting a long, long time.

* * *

As much as Rachel tries to avoid what seems inevitable, she shows up at Quinn's place one Friday evening and doesn't encounter just one blonde Fabray, but rather two.

Rachel knows the second one is Frannie from the moment she sees the woman, and she freezes in the doorway, her keys in hand and surprise on her face. Frannie sees her first, from where she's sitting at the kitchen table, and her expression shifts through several emotions before it settles on something unreadable.

Quinn has her back to her at first, busy at the little stove, but she turns at the sound of her keys, and her facial expression is much easier to read. Nervousness, sure, but she always look happy to see Rachel and now is no different.

Quinn checks her pots just once, and then crosses the room to greet Rachel the way she usually does. After a quick hug and a kiss to her cheek, Quinn takes her backpack off her shoulder and closes the door behind her. "I'm making soup," she says brightly, and Rachel searches her face for what she's really feeling.

It's obvious once she goes looking, and Rachel reaches out to touch her arm, stilling her. "Are you okay?" she asks, quiet enough that she's sure Frannie won't be able to hear her.

Quinn doesn't look at her when she says, "Frannie wants me to go and live with her."

Instead of the words bringing her comfort, they infuriate Rachel. Where has she been all this time? What has she been doing while her baby sister lived in a homeless shelter? _Where was she?_

Quinn shifts closer. "In Columbus."

Rachel's breath catches, because that's not - they made -

Quinn sighs. "I haven't decided," she says. "It's just that she's moving there for her new job, and she'll actually have the space for me, and I - "

Rachel squeezes her arm. "We can talk about it more later," she offers. When Frannie is gone. When Quinn can talk freely about her feelings on the matter.

"Okay," Quinn says, looking momentarily relieved. "Come meet her so long."

Now, Rachel has some idea about what her girlfriend's sister would be like, and she's not too far off. She gets the immediate impression that Frannie resents her for some reason. As if _she's_ the one responsible for dividing their family by simply allowing Quinn to live as her authentic self.

Quinn doesn't notice, which is a saving grace, because Rachel foresees heartbreak for her in the future. The fact she's even considering going to live with Frannie shows just how much Quinn still wants her family, when they've been quite vocal about not fully accepting her.

Still.

Rachel wants to give her the benefit of the doubt, because this seems important to Quinn.

Which, after only a few questions about Frannie's job, proves to be pointless. The benefit goes out the window when they really get into the details and Frannie says, "I'll be interning with McIntosh & Associates," and Quinn's spoon freezes on its way to her mouth.

Rachel watches her, puzzled by her reaction.

"Is that - " Quinn starts. "Isn't Calvin McIntosh one of Dad's backers?" she asks, and Rachel's heart starts to drop into her stomach.

Frannie reaches for a strip of toast and distractedly says, "Dad's the one who lined up the job." She bites into the bread. "It's all about who you know these days when it comes to the job market, you know."

Quinn has gone pale. "The job is in Columbus," she points out.

"You know I've always wanted to live in the city," Frannie says, giving Quinn a look.

Quinn stares back at her. "And, who's idea was it to go for a new job in the first place?"

Frannie's expression shifts. "Mine."

"Who's idea was it to have it be in Columbus? Because I know there's an office here. I go to school with the man's son, you know?"

"It was my idea," Frannie says, suddenly tense, and Rachel doesn't believe her for a second.

Clearly, neither does Quinn. "Then, answer me this, who's idea was it to get me to agree to live with you? In Columbus? Outside of Lima? Where our father plans to run for mayor and needs to look squeaky clean and family friendly. Where we both know he can't do that with an openly gay daughter in this stupid church town."

Frannie doesn't quite falter, but it's something close, and Rachel's heart breaks _for_ Quinn. She's put her spoon down, her fists are clenched, and Rachel wants to reach out for her so badly.

"I _do_ want you to live with me," Quinn," Frannie says, voice a little high. "I just - we can't do that in Lima. You know that. This way, it works out perfectly."

"For who?" Quinn snaps. "What? You think packaging me up and sending me off to the city is just supposed to make it all go away?"

"At least none of his voters will have to see you gaying it up all over town," Frannie shoots right back, and the entire room falls to silence. Frannie looks suitably horrified by her own words and she immediately tries to smooth it over, but -

It's too late.

They all know it's too late.

"He put you up to this, didn't he?" Quinn asks, and her voice sounds detached. "He put all these ideas in your head, and, what? You just went along with it? You're the sacrificial lamb? Convince your sister to leave town and make it look as if you're doing her a favour. Keep her in line wherever you end up. What, Frannie? Were you going to make me go back in the closet? Were you even going to accept that I love Rachel?"

Something happens to Frannie's face in that moment, however minimal, but it's more of an answer than any verbal response she could have given.

Quinn leans back, hands flat on the table. "I think you should go," she says.

"Quinn."

"You're obviously still uncomfortable with all of this," Quinn says. "I'm not going to change who I am for some campaign or to hold onto you or Mom or anything else. You - you think this is all something I can control, don't you?"

"You can just keep it hidden," Frannie pleads. "It doesn't - you don't have to _display_ it so openly."

Quinn gets to her feet, her chair almost toppling over. "You need to go," she says. "Now."

"Quinn, please."

"Frannie," Quinn says, and there's a certain edge to her voice Rachel has never heard before. "If you love me at all; if you hope to salvage some kind of relationship with me in the future when I'm no longer seething and heartbroken, then you need to leave right now." She looks right into Frannie's eyes. "Now, Frannie."

And, mercifully, Frannie leaves.

Not before shooting a look at Rachel that very obviously says _this is your fault_ , when they both know it's not.

* * *

Quinn doesn't cry, but she does stomp around the small space, visibly raging. Her fists are clenched so tightly that Rachel's worried her nails are going to draw blood. She's mumbling to herself, expression in a heavy-set frown, and Rachel doesn't know how to make any of this better.

She hates that she's not more prepared, because she had a feeling something like this would happen. She just knew it, but the reality of it is so much worse.

Eventually, Quinn stops her pacing rather abruptly and turns pleading eyes on Rachel. Her mouth opens and closes several times, words failing her.

Rachel understands, though, and she gets to her feet immediately. She crosses the space between them and wraps Quinn in a hug tight enough to hurt. Right into her ear, she says, "You still have me," with all the confidence she feels in this moment.

Rachel's not going anywhere, and she'll keep saying it until her throat is raw.

* * *

Despite their best intentions, Rachel and Quinn don't get the opportunity to volunteer together at the shelter until Memorial Day. Lynn looks immensely pleased to see them, as if she doesn't check in with Quinn every other day, and she actually hugs Rachel when they arrive.

Maggie just shoots them a wink and says, "No funny business while we're working." Quinn blushes madly, and Rachel just sticks out her tongue in the older woman's direction.

Quinn is greeted with warm hugs and excited exclaims as she does the rounds, recognised by some of the patrons still living here. And by those just passing through. Lynn doesn't give her much time to socialise before she's putting them both to work, muttering something about the prodigal daughter's return.

Rachel doesn't even need to worry about goofing around with Quinn because, like over Christmas, Quinn remains resolutely hidden in the kitchen once the food starts flowing and Rachel holds onto her curiosity until Lynn finally lets her go for a break.

After everyone's dished out and enjoying the day as a whole: food and company combined, Rachel ventures into the kitchen to locate her mysterious girlfriend. It's a little like déjà vu to find Quinn sitting on one of the high metal tables, her legs dangling as she fiddles with her phone and hums to herself.

As tempted as Rachel is to stay in here with her, just watching her; they're both at different places in their lives to the ones they were in at Christmas, and Quinn doesn't need to hide.

She's never needed to.

Her story has always been worth telling, even if she never has to say a word.

Quinn smiles when she notices her, and then immediately starts to protest when Rachel reaches for her hand and moves to tug her off the table.

"Rachel, no," she says, shaking her head. "I'm perfectly fine in here."

"You're perfectly fine everywhere," Rachel shoots back, winking at her. "Just come sit with me for a while. Please?" She very carefully shifts her expression into a small pout, and Quinn gives in a mere minute later. Rachel even gets a lingering kiss for her troubles, which leaves her flushed enough for Maggie to give them a very significant look when they emerge.

Quinn just pulls them towards the old piano, silently pushing Rachel to sit and play something for them. Quinn enjoys her singing, she's come to know, but she makes a point of not drawing too much attention to it.

"Sit with me," Rachel tells her, sliding onto the piano bench and patting the space beside her. Quinn does so immediately, sitting pleasantly close, and it's all Rachel needs to start playing some well-known classics.

Country is a go-to, and she does a bit of Elvis, which gets people singing along the way she expected them to. Quinn's laughter reaches her ears, and there's just something so deeply pure about this moment that she has that desire to take a snapshot of it all over again.

When her little concert comes to an end, Quinn kisses her cheek and then goes to fetch her a glass of water. She remains where she is, turning right around to look at the various people in the small hall. The noise isn't extreme now that the show is over, and it feels good. Wholesome. Perfect in a way that's the culmination of many little moments. It's not a feeling she'll be able to explain, but she gets the impression Quinn just _gets it_ , based on the expression on her own face.

Quinn returns to her seat and hands her a glass. She murmurs a quiet thank you, and rests her head against Quinn's shoulder. They sit in silence, soaking up the day as a whole.

She gets it now, though. What Quinn was talking about. Out here, people can take one look at you and just know your story.

She wonders if they can tell just how in love she is.

Quinn takes hold of her hand, slowly linking their fingers. "I have this thought," she says; "about our future."

Rachel waits, allowing her the opportunity to talk.

"When the worst part is over, and we've overcome awful bullies, once-friends and unaccepting family; when we've left all the naysayers behind and found the best people for us. When we're successful and capable and able to love freely and offer the best parts of ourselves to the world. I have this thought that we'll do something like _this_." She looks around, taking in the people and the space around them.

It's buzzing, people chatting amicably and enjoying their food and drink the way they're supposed to. Rachel knows there's a lot of sadness and brokenness in this room, but an outsider wouldn't be able to tell, just looking at them.

"Open a place," Quinn continues. "Start some kind of foundation, to help teenagers like me. Who find their truths and lose other things in the process. Not everyone is as lucky as I am, to have a Lynn or a Maggie." She looks into Rachel's eyes. "Or a _you_."

Quinn has never been shy about how important it is to her that Rachel entered her life, even claiming that she couldn't have seen herself getting this far without her. Quinn calls Rachel her little Christmas miracle, which still baffles the brunette.

As far as she's concerned, everything she's done has been from a selfish place. She wanted to spend time with Quinn, so she did. She liked seeing Quinn's smile, so she did things to make sure it bloomed and remained.

"Is that - is that something you'd also want?" Quinn asks, her voice little more than a whisper. As if she's genuinely worried Rachel wouldn't want to help other teenagers like her.

She's so silly.

Rachel gently squeezes her fingers, getting her attention and lifting her own head to look at her properly. "You want to know something, Quinn," she says, leaning in close. "If anyone's going to be the miracle between the two of us; it's you."

Quinn opens her mouth to argue, but Rachel just shakes her head.

"You once asked me if I were ashamed of you," Rachel reminds her, still wondering how Quinn could ever have thought that. "And I told you I was proud of you. I'm continually proud of you. Look how far you've come."

"I've had help," Quinn deflects.

"But you've still made it to this point, and I know it hasn't been easy. I know you still hurt about your parents and your sister and even some of your teammates. I know you struggle, even though you try to hide it."

Quinn looks away, her gaze dropping.

"But I am so, so proud of you," Rachel tells her again. "Of all you've already become, and who you're going to grow to be."

Her blush is practically steaming when she says, "Rachel," as if saying her name will get her to stop talking.

It doesn't.

"I've honestly never managed to get over how it feels to hear you say my name," she drops in, because Quinn does succeed in distracting her.

"Rachel," Quinn says again, which prompts a dreamy sigh out of her.

Rachel can't resist kissing her cheek and delighting in her blush. "I love you," she says, choosing those three words over the other safer four.

Quinn turns her head, gaze meeting hers. "After everything?" she asks, voice little more than a whisper. "Still?"

Goodness, she really is just so silly.

Rachel smoothes a hand over Quinn's hair, tucking an errant lock behind her ear. "I love you," she says again. Then chooses the other words as well, because maybe they hold more meaning to Quinn than she'll ever know.

Words mean little to her, she once said, and Rachel has always believed her. The fact she can express her love in words has little affect on Quinn is testament to that. It's more to do with the fact she's still sitting right here; still by her side.

"No matter what happens, or what we go through," she says, tone certain and expression open. "I promise, you will still have me."

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
